Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I watch Zoe carefully as she pokes her head around doorframes and into empty cupboards. “What do you think?” I ask when I can’t keep it in any longer.
She knocks on a wall as if to test its sturdiness. Adorable. “It’s stunning.”
“The location is right.”
“Couldn’t be better,” she says, folding her hands behind her back.
I lean a shoulder against the wall. “But?”
“It’s too soon.”
“It’s never too soon.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?”
“We don’t have to sign a contract for a year’s lease. We can give thirty days notice.”
She narrows her pretty eyes. “How did you manage that?”
“The owner owes me.”
She doesn’t quite smile, but it’s close enough. “Of course he does.” She rests her chin on her shoulder, looks through the window for a while, and then asks, “Why are you doing this, Maxime?”
Straightening, I walk to her. “I want you to be happy.”
She stares at my face. “Why?”
“Don’t you want me to be happy?”
I cup her hips to draw her to me, but she twists out of my hold and escapes to the far end of the room, pretending to study the mosaic floor tiles.
“Zoe?” I ask with a nerve twitching under my eye. I don’t like it when she defies our connection. No matter what she wants to believe, we have something. A spark.
She shrugs. “I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Yes,” she says with a sigh. “I want you to be happy.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She faces me. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Haven’t I proven myself by now? “What more do you want me to do to?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Have I manipulated you since our wedding?” I ask.
“Maybe a little yesterday.”
When I seduced her with the mannequin. I disagree. That kind of seduction wasn’t manipulation. I only reminded her she wanted me. “We both wanted it.”
Her cheeks turn pink.
“Have I lied to you since my promise?” I ask.
From the way she averts her eyes and studies her shoes, I’m guessing this is the heart of the problem.
“Have I lied to you, Zoe?”
She looks up. “I don’t know.” Her voice is pained. “Have you?”
My answer sounds harsher than what I intended. “No.”
“That’s the issue.” She spreads her hands, holding up her palms. “You’ve lied to me so many times I don’t know how to believe you.”
The statement stabs me in the chest. I’ve never been bothered about someone else’s opinion, especially not an opinion of me, but this floors me. I don’t like it.
“I haven’t lied,” I say.
“Trust takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight.”
Fine. I’ve got time. I have a lifetime of it. I just have to be patient, like with sniffing out Leclerc, but for some reason I want to fix this now.
“Zoe, please.” I take a step toward her. “Give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “You took too much from me. There have been too many betrayals. The lie about hurting Damian, the design school, Sylvie, and Izabella—”
I hold up a hand. “I know what I did.”
“Then you must understand how I feel.”
The surprising thing is that for once I do. For once in my emotionless life, I get why my actions hurt her. I don’t like it, but I can’t take it back. For once, I can’t have it my way. I don’t have a choice but to wait, hoping in time she’ll give me the trust I once took for granted and want back at all costs.
“Fine,” I say, the word weighing heavily on me. “I can wait.”
She crosses the floor and stops short of me. “Don’t hold your breath.” Squeezing past me, she mumbles, “I’m certainly not.”
Fuck me. That hurts, not that I don’t deserve it. I’ve long since made peace with the fear, but the hurt is new, and it’s a shock as much as torture. My shrink said I could have a rewarding relationship if I could see matters from my partner’s perspective and build trust.
If this is anything to go by, it looks as if we’re on our way to a rewarding relationship.
Chapter 33
Zoe
The Cannes festival brings in a lot of publicity, not only for me, but also for Damian’s diamonds. Since Maxime is the supplier for Europe, he profits from the advertising too.
Within a week, I have five orders for custom-designed gowns. I ask for deposits and use the money to fit out the boutique and hire a seamstress. Maxime’s gift to me is a signboard with my logo that goes above the door. He moves my sewing machine, boxes of fabric, and other equipment from the apartment to the new premises.
With the big job of organizing photo shoots, having a glossy jewelry brochure designed, translating it into various European languages, overseeing the printing, and having the website updated, Maxime has his hands as full as I do with the opening the boutique. We’re too exhausted for more than a celebration at home in the Jacuzzi with a good bottle of wine.